Timing
by mindlessmadness
Summary: Sometimes, things are simply meant to be. Just maybe not when you expect them.
1. Prologue

**Timing**

Summary: Sometimes, things are simply meant to be. Just maybe not when you expect them.

A/N: This is the prologue. This is NOT an angsty oneshot; there is certainly more to come. I hope you enjoy it, and please, if you did (or if you didnt- but no flames please) send me a review.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Office, no matter how much i wish i did. sigh

* * *

Heartbreak affects different people in different ways. Some withdraw, trying to escape the world that hurt them; some lash out, trying to hurt it back. Some swear off love forever, and others immediately go out and try to find it elsewhere. It is only a very mature person who can accept their pain, and move on.

Jim Halpert wanted so badly to be one of those mature people. He wanted to be able to say he was all right, and mean it; to let her be happy, and to be ok with her upcoming marriage. He wanted to someday, maybe, be able to wake up in the morning and think of something other than her. To spend his nights dreaming about things other than her hair, or her smile, or her eyes. But as much as he wanted, needed, these things, he knew that they would never be possible to reach if he stayed in Scranton, Pennsylvania.

So he left.

It was shocking, really, how easy it was to leave it all behind. His interview with Jan went perfectly; he knew, before even leaving the room, that he would get the job. So when she gave him a call three days later to tell him that, if he was still interested, he was the new head salesman of the Stamford branch of Dunder-Mifflin, he was expecting it. And while papers were being sent to Michael to be signed, he began packing, both for Australia and his move, because he started two days after his vacation ended.

Even when Michael got the forms, there wasn't too much fuss. Dwight quickly managed to convince their fretting boss that it was for the best, and besides, HE was the better salesman anyways. Some tears were shed, and many appeared shell-shocked for a few days, but compared to the full pandemonium Jim was expecting, it really wasn't too bad. The only thing that struck him was the look on Pam's face when Michael burst out of his office to confront him about his transfer. She seemed so sad, so betrayed, that he almost called Jan back to change his mind that very instant. But then something else flashed in the eyes of the woman he loved so much, and he knew he had made the right choice. For a split second, she had looked almost… relieved.

His last weeks passed quickly, and more painlessly than he would have thought possible. Later, he supposed he must have been numb, or in shock. His (soon to be ex) coworkers went from bombarding him with questions, to avoiding him completely, as if unsure whether to be excited for him, or upset they couldn't go with. Pam was the worst of any of them. Some days, they talked and laughed like they used to. Others, they were awkward and quiet around one another. He never had been able to voice what their relationship really was, and it didnt become any clearer during those final days of Scranton.

His last day, June 7th, consisted of a terrible Michael-hosted goodbye party, and lots and lots of hugs. The only one he ever remembered was Pam's. How she was the last in line to say a final good-bye to him, standing slumped in front of the elevator doors. How she flung her arms around his neck, crying softly and trying to hide it, and how she kissed his cheek, whispering, "How am I supposed to survive here without you?" How the others slowly stepped back, as if expecting a last minute declaration of undying love. But none came from either of them, and then he was stepping into the elevator, and waving goodbye.

The last thing he heard as the doors closed was Dwight's whoop of joyous triumph.

* * *

Stamford was like Scranton, only a little bigger and closer to New York City. After a week of exploring Australia (which he mostly did to get her off his mind), returning to a place so like his old hometown seemed depressing. But he decided he shouldn't have time to be depressed. In Australia he had found that if he kept really, really busy, his thoughts didn't drift as much, and he didn't think of her every three seconds. More like every ten. It wasn't much, but it was a start, and that was something

So he threw himself headfirst into his new life. Before he left, he had found a place to live, rooming with a few guys. He spent his first day and a half in his new place feverishly redecorating his room. Then his first day of work came. After working with Michael and Dwight and the rest for so long, this new, normal, office came as a shock to him. But it was ok, because he didn't focus on the people. Instead, he worked his ass off, making more sales in his first two weeks then in his last two months in Scranton. And he kept at it, because the more he worked, the less he thought of her, and the less he thought of her, the more he could pretend he was alright.

Time passed quicker than he had previously thought possible. Soon, it was June 2007…. then 2008. With nowhere to go in the Stamford branch, and no desire to go through with another transfer, he just kept working. The money piled up, most of it going into a bank account. A good chunk of it went to moving into a small apartment of his own, but really, that was about it.

In those two years, his life barely seemed to change. Monotony suited him, it appeared, though he knew that was only on the surface. On the inside, he was dying, slowly but surely. He had been so sure that, given the time and the distance, his love for her would fade, and he could go back to being flirtatious, carefree Jim. Instead, every day he thought of her more, missed her more, loved her more. He wondered sometimes if he was actually in love, or if he was just obsessed. "They're really not much different." He decided.

Then, on April 28th, 2009, his boss retired. And before he could say 'promoted', he was officially the regional manager of the Stamford branch of Dunder-Mifflin.

Walking into his new office for the first time, he wondered at who he had become. "Really, you should be happy." He told himself. "You have plenty of money, a fine place to live, nice coworkers. Plus, at 29, you're probably the youngest regional manger ever."

But he wasn't happy. And he didn't care about any of the things that were supposed to make him happy. All he wanted was Pam. And without her, he knew just what he was. Empty and lost, and blundering along blindly towards the future he had chosen for himself. A future in which he was always alone, only aheartbrokenfragment of himself.

* * *

More to come, and soon (hopefully)!Remember,this is just the prologue.

Please, Review!

-Mel


	2. Now Hiring

**A/N**: Yay update! I always feel so accomplished when i update something. Nothing else to say, but, THE FINALE WAS AMAZING!

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, though i'd take Jim Halpert in a heartbeat.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Jims first real task as manager came in mid-may. The Stamford receptionist, Maureen, a sweet older woman who was know to bring in homemade cookies, was retiring. And Jim needed to hire a new one.

He knew he should get right on it: put out application ads, conduct interviews, etc. But it was getting close to the three-year mark of his departure from Scranton, and Jim didn't feel like doing much of anything but moping.

Besides, any mention of receptionists sent him into deep depression.

So, when Jan called only two days after Maureen's retirement announcement, he regarded it as an amazing stroke of luck.

The phone rang barely five minutes after he arrived at the office, and Maureen put him through, after telling him there was an oatmeal cookie waiting for him at her desk.

"Hello Jim." Said Jan, sounding much too brisk and awake for his liking. "I've received notice that your receptionist is retiring. Have you looked into finding a new one?"

Though he had been working with her for nearly six and a half years now, Jan's ability to get straight to the point still astounded Jim sometimes. Under the impression he was about to be punished, he managed to stutter out a lie.

"Oh, um, yeah, I've been, uh, I've been looking into it."

A sense of strange familiarity washed over him. Jim winced as he realized that by fibbing weakly to corporate over the phone, he was reminding himself of Michael.

"You have?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but Jan was already talking again.

"Well, if you haven't found anyone yet, I received a résumé at corporate yesterday. The person is looking for a receptionist job in one of our branches, and I think they would do…well…in Stamford. They seem to be quite qualified."

Jim breathed a huge sigh of relief, and then hoped she hadn't heard him.

"Oh, really? Well, uh, as a matter of fact I haven't found anyone yet, so yeah, that sounds like it would work fine. Perfect, actually."

"Good. When would be a good time for an interview?"

Though he was tempted to ask Jan to hire the person interview free, Jim really didn't want to sound any more like his ex-boss.

"How about…11 tomorrow?" He asked.

"Wonderful. She will be there. Good-bye Jim."

"Thanks very much, and good-bye Jan."

Jim set his phone down and leaned back in his chair. Shutting his eyes and linking his hands behind his head, he tried to relax. Though not having to find a person was a weight off his shoulders, he still felt exhausted. His life was passing by in an endless haze of work, and he felt no closer to his actual goal. Really, all he felt was old.

"Maybe the new receptionist will be stunning, and I can fall madly in love with her." He thought. "Hey, if that happens, I'll have a type!"

Smiling bitterly at his own mental joke, Jim rose and went to fetch his oatmeal cookie.

* * *

The next morning passed much to slowly for Jim. Though he wouldn't have admitted it, he was not looking forward to this interview, and just wanted to get it over with. Every question he had to ask reminded him of Pam, and every reminder of her hit him a little bit harder.

So he spent the time between nine and eleven alternating between doing work not due for three weeks, and pacing nervously.

By the time eleven rolled around, Jim was thinking of Pam so much he thought his head might explode.

"So much for distracting myself." He thought. A plan B was needed. In two sharp strides he crossed over to his desk and collapsed in his chair. For a moment, he just sat there, staring blankly into space. Then a tiny, slightly wistful smile came to his face, and he opened a game of spider solitaire. It had been a long time since he had last played his favorite computer game, and he hoped the gods of solitaire would forgive him enough to let him think of nothing. Or at least of things other than her.

Shockingly, it worked. His mind emptied, and his hand, which had been anxiously tapping, settled for twirling a pencil. Fifteen minutes passed, and he barely registered that the receptionist-hopeful was late. This was probably, he reasoned, the most relaxed he had been for a long while.

Then his phone rang, causing him to jump in surprise. "Alright, he thought, "Maybe you're not **that** relaxed." He picked up, and was greeted by Maureen.

"Mr. Halpert? The receptionist has arrived. She says she's sorry she's so late."

A little bit of his nervousness returned, and his pencil twirling became pencil tapping again.

"Send her right in.," he said.

* * *

Out at the front desk, a very confused woman was staring at the receptionist as she hung up the phone.

"Um, excuse me." She said, her eyes showing the slightest hint of fear. "Did you say Halpert?"

The receptionist smiled encouragingly at her.

"Yes. Mr. Halpert. His office is the last on the right." She gestured across the workspace, an orderly, quiet place. The woman, however, was not paying attention. Her hazel eyes had grown wide and had a glazed look to them, and one hand shot to her mouth, stifling a gasp.

"Is everything ok? Miss?" Maureen stood up and waved a hand in front of her face. "Are you feeling alright?"

The woman nodded slowly, pinned back hair bouncing.

"Yes." She whispered. "Yes, um, I will be. Which office was it?"

Maureen, still concerned, pointed. "Last on the right…there's no need to be nervous, he's a very nice man. A little quiet, maybe, but he-"

The woman waved her off, and then set off across the office, wringing her hands in distress.

* * *

"It sure is taking her a while." Thought Jim. Every second, his dread grew, though now he wasn't so sure why. All he knew was that he wanted this interview over with, and quickly.

His eyes flicked from the doorway to his computer screen, scanning over the questions he had prepared. Switching back to gazing at the door, his pencil suddenly slipped out of his fingers. It landed with a "thunk!" under his desk, and Jim let out a little groan. He leaned down and grasped at it…only to find he couldn't quite reach.

Officially exasperated now, Jim slid out of his chair and crawled under his desk. As he grabbed his errant writing utensil, he heard the door click open, then shut.

"Hello." He called out. "Please take a seat. I, um, I dropped my pencil."

"Great job making a first impression, Jim." He thought sarcastically. For a moment, there was no noise from the woman across the room. Then, when he was nearly done backpedaling out from underneath the desk, a small, shaky voice spoke.

"Jim?"

The amazing familiarity of the voice shocked him, and he sat bolt upright, smashing his head on the edge of the wood.

"Ow!" he yelped, rubbing his skull. But despite the fact that his head felt like it was on fire, and his world was spinning a bit, Jim was frantic to get out from under that damn desk. He **knew** that voice. Knew it better than anything in the universe.

With a burst of energy, Jim flipped back onto his heels and stood up, all in one semi-fluid motion.

Although he was really dizzy now, the woman standing in front of the door was in perfect focus.

Her curly brownish hair was pulled back messily, and her button-up shirt and knee-length skirt were both slightly rumpled. Her hands were clutched tightly over her mouth, tears gathered in her eyes, and here entire body seemed to be shaking. She was the most beautiful thing Jim had ever seen.

Somehow, the fireworks going off in his brain stopped long enough for Jim to choke out a single word; a question he already knew the answer to.

"Pam?"

* * *

Warning: I'm an awful sucker for reunion scenes. So if this felt too dramatic/fluffy for you, just wait till next chapter...nefarious giggle

Please review!

-Mel


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